


keep on falling

by mysterytwin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Chronological, Post-Canon, Proposals, Slow Dancing, Time Skips, Tokyo (City), just dumb boys being happy together, this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytwin/pseuds/mysterytwin
Summary: Hinata, Kageyama, and all the little ways they fall in love out of order.





	keep on falling

**Author's Note:**

> here's to some established kagehina!!
> 
> recommended listening: i choose you by sara bareilles

_“This may be the unpopular opinion but when people ask me, “What’s the most romantic thing you can give to another person?” — I always just have one answer: Every day. So, if you’ll let me, if I may, let me give you all these days. And, if you’ll let me, if I may, if I’m not in over my head, I do honestly hope you’ll let me start no day but today.”_

** _— _ ** **Serge Gabriel, Every Day**

** _i. outside, for the world to see_ **

“You want to know something funny, Kageyama?”

Hinata watches as Kageyama stops mid-toss, ball still held above his head. He lowers the ball to his chest, and looks right back at Hinata. The October sun over both of them, nearly hidden behind the clouds. Still, it stretches, afternoon droplets reaching the ground. Gray clouds trying to defeat the sun. He looks ethereal in it, with the rest of the world behind him. How someone such as Kageyama Tobio could be so grounding and yet so clearly destined for the heavens, Hinata isn’t so sure, but he’s glad that he’s here anyway.

“What?” Kageyama asks, and his eyes flicker to the sky. He tucks the ball by the side of his arm. The rest of the park is empty already.

“It’s funny,” Hinata says, with a bit of a smile. “I don’t really want to fight against you anymore.”

Kageyama looks confused. “What do you mean?”

He starts walking home, and Kageyama easily falls into step with him. “I think it’s more of—I want to fight with you, instead of against you. I don’t want to stand at the top of the world without you there next to me. Does that make sense?”

Kageyama blinks, and Hinata sees him mouth his words over again. _ With_, he thinks, _ instead of against. _

“Yeah,” he says after a moment, slow and deliberate. “Me, too.”

“I don’t even remember when I stopped hating you, actually,” Hinata says, laughing softly. There’s a strike of lightning in the distance, but even he knows not to fear such flash. He doesn’t seek it, not really. “Actually, maybe I never really did. Huh.”

Kageyama is silent next to him, so Hinata nudges him by the side, hitting against him lightly.

“Weird, right? I guess, _ sure_, I sorta disliked you, ‘cause you were annoying and mean sometimes, but I never hated you. I mean, how could I hate the guy who helped me play volleyball, you know? You’re my partner, and I trust you.” _ For today, and for all the rest of our days, may all the fights be damned and all the bickering loosened. _“I guess that part hasn’t really changed, huh?”

“No,” Kageyama says. “It hasn’t.”

_ And so if I may, let me stand by you, for as long as the world will allow it. _

“That’s good then,” Hinata says, smiling. He feels a raindrop fall on his face. A drizzle to kickstart the hurricane. “Because I think I like you too much now. Maybe even more than I should.”

Kageyama flushes bright red, eyes widening. Hinata laughs at his reaction as the rain falls down, heavier and harder, enveloping them in its greatness. _ Let the rain wash it all away. _Then he runs, smile wide and laughing, the wind against his face. He’s soaked to the bone now, and he hears Kageyama’s steps right next to him. He’s smiling, too.

Always keeping pace, always side by side. Always, to the top of the world.

** _ii. in the middle of the hallway_ **

_ “Kageyama!” _

The voice carries out loudly through the crowd of students, and Kageyama stills at the call. He’s lucky that it doesn’t cause too much attention; everyone else is too busy catching up from their respective summer vacations. He turns to look at the end of the hallway, finds a bright shock of orange, and knows who’s waiting for him there. Hinata runs up to him, and once he’s closer, Kageyama realizes that he’s carrying something in his arms. When he finally stands in front of Kageyama, he hides the object behind his back.

“Kageyama! I haven’t seen you in years!” Hinata says, bouncing on his toes. His eyes are bright, cheeks flushed, a light sprinkle of freckles across his nose from the sun. A fireplace shotgun, headed for the skies.

“I saw you yesterday,” Kageyama says, raising an eyebrow. If he’s being honest, he’s seen Hinata nearly every day during the summer. He’s spent several morning runs with him, spent too many times in convenience stores bickering over what junk food to buy. Afternoons practicing volleyball with the fading sun on their shoulders, cupping the last few sunbeams with their hands. There were late nights watching movies, sneaking glances when the other wasn’t looking, midnight kitchen raids, sleepovers where Kageyama could watch the sun incarnate itself rise right next to him in the morning.

(Then, of course, there was the Great Tokyo trip, and Kageyama’s can still feel the buzz of it on his lips, the thrum of the city in his bones. City lights, the ghost of held hands, a touch to change everything. It was Hinata’s idea, a spur of the moment kind of thing, reckless and dumb, but then again, they’ve always been meant for grander schemes.)

“It’s only been a couple of hours,” Kageyama says, shrugging.

Hinata shakes his head, but it doesn’t loosen the smile off his lips. “Well, I like seeing you.”

He turns pink at this. “Dumbass—you shouldn’t—you can’t just—you can’t just say things like _ that_.” He wonders how Hinata can be so blunt about this, how words of affection can roll off his tongue so easily.

“Like what?” Hinata asks, tilting his head to the side in innocence, but he’s unable to hide the slyness of his smile. “Things like _ I like you _ or _ I want to see you all the time?”_

Kageyama blushes even harder. “Idiot,” is all he can manage. And Hinata beams anyway, because he’s always been able to see through the simplicity of Kageyama’s words; he finds the meaning hidden beneath the surface, looks into the inflections of his voice and the curve of his lips, and Hinata understands it all easily. So through the fond insult, Hinata hears the _ I like you, too _ that Kageyama wants to say, and grins.

“Anyway, I have something I want to give you,” Hinata tells him, and he’s bouncing on his toes again, excitement seeping through his actions. In one swift movement, he holds out the thing behind his back for Kageyama to see.

It’s a plant.

Kageyama blinks at it. “Uh…thanks?”

“It’s a cactus!” Hinata exclaims, and he places it in Kageyama’s hands. “I saw it and I thought of you! You know, since you can be kind of prickly sometimes.” He laughs when Kageyama aims for his head, dodging swiftly and not missing a single beat. “I know you’re not too good with plants, but don’t worry! You don’t need to water it too much, just every once in a while.”

And as weird as it may be to receive a small cactus in a pot on the first day back at school, Kageyama is strangely endeared. Something warm blooms in his chest because _ Hinata thought of him_, enough to make him give a present. It’s strange, and he wonders if liking someone like this always makes you feel so funny inside.

“Thank you,” he says again, but this time with more sincerity. He tries for a smile, wincing because he knows his smiles aren’t always the greatest—but Hinata flushes anyway, ears turning pink at the tips, so it must be okay. “I…uh, I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Hinata says, grinning. It still feels like summer with him around. Kageyama’s always preferred the cold more, but he’s beginning to find that he doesn’t mind that much anymore. Hinata adjusts the strap of his bag. “I’ll see you later then? During lunch?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ll see you.”

Hinata shuffles in his spot, glancing at the ground before looking back up at Kageyama. He looks like he’s taking a deep breath, and he shuts his eyes closed. Then, quick as lightning, he stands on his toes and presses a kiss to Kageyama’s cheek.

Kageyama almost stops breathing.

Hinata squeaks, avoiding Kageyama’s eyes. His cheeks are heavily stained with pink. “I’ll—I’ll see you later!”

And then he’s off, leaving Kageyama in the middle of the hallway, rooted to the spot holding onto a potted plant like it’s his lifeline. He blushes, and he brings up a hand to hide his smile.

They’re both still new to this—to this _ thing_, whatever this is between them that makes them want to stay together—and there’s still so much of it that they don’t understand quite yet. But maybe that’s the best part, Kageyama thinks, because he really wouldn’t mind figuring it all out with Hinata.

(The next day, Kageyama presents Hinata with a sunflower. _ It reminded me of you, _ he says, and Hinata looks up at him with all the world’s wonder in his eyes, shining bright enough to rival the sun, even more so when he pulls Kageyama down for a proper kiss. Kageyama’s never really been one for flowers, not like Hinata is, but in that moment, he swears that he might just want to grow his own gardens one day.)

** _iii. inside the gym_ **

Hinata’s almost certain that he and Kageyama could give scientists something new to study. They could give astronomers and physicists a run for their money, a phenomena they can never understand. Because there must be something, he believes, in the way that he and Kageyama find each other time and time again. There must be something in this _ gravitational orbit _of theirs, a constant of the time held together by a red string. A pull they can’t deny, two anomalies on a collision course to meet in the middle. They could give the world its greatest conundrum, a mystery for centuries. Hinata and Kageyama, inexhaustibly reaching for each other no matter what.

Because the first time they met, it had felt nothing short of an explosion—a king of the court and crow unable to fly properly. Beginnings are a lot harder to decipher when they’re messy, when there are nothing but blurred lines and crossed wires. The first time, in that gym, standing against each other, Hinata had felt the drop in his stomach—light years condensed into seconds, miles into millimeters—and it had been the same pull that he feels today. _ Still tugging, still calling. _

And as much as Hinata had sworn to defeat Kageyama, _ keep on moving towards that evening sun_, he’d always thought the chances of seeing him again were unlikely at best. But there it was again anyway, for all the gravity is worth, and they’d found each other again. And this time, it wasn’t short, not just a matter of coexisting, but it was about forming a partnership to last.

_ No one was there_.

(_I’m here!) _

Because their beginning has never been of the simpler kind. It’s taken many days and many nights to form this bond of theirs, an easy connection forged by sweat and frustration and bickering. Because wherever Hinata is, Kageyama is sure to be close by; because they’re never separated, not for too long anyway, for reasons they can’t help. They’ve made promises too big for either of them to keep but they try anyway. Because they know this fundamental truth better than anyone: that failure is just another reason to get back up again. To fall down once means you just have to get back up twice; to break a promise simply means to make stronger ones. Because they have tried and they have failed—and still they are trying again. They know this, and for that very reason they choose to stay.

Again and again and again.

Once more.

“Oi, Kageyama! You wanna fight?” Hinata yells across the gym. He holds out his fists and lowers his stance. He’s never been too brave when it comes to things like these, but Kageyama’s been staring at him weirdly since practice started and Hinata’s getting tired of not understanding. On most days, he can understand Kageyama just fine; he knows that when Kageyama’s eyebrows knit together, it means he’s thinking about what flavor of milk to buy, or when he’s looking really serious and cranky outside of the court, it just means he’s sleepy. When he’s scared, he looks for Hinata’s hand to hold, and when he’s relaxed, he loosens his shoulders and lets the world pass him by. Hinata knows Kageyama, for better or for worse, _ he knows him_.

But this he can’t understand.

“What?” Kageyama says, walking straight to him, the edge of a scowl tracing on his lips. “I told you, I won’t toss to you until you’re done practicing serves.”

“It’s not that,” Hinata says, and he crosses his arms. “You’ve been staring. So you wanna fight or what?”

Kageyama blinks at him, clearly confused. “Staring? No, I wasn’t—I don’t want to fight, dumbass.”

“Yeah, you were,” Hinata objects, and he snatches the ball from Kageyama’s grip and tucks it into his own arms. He remembers their first year, back to that one fight they’d had back during the training camp, recalls the way it had made him feel—_like all the storms had been swept into him_. Then he asks, voice a little lower, eyes flickering anywhere but ahead. “So are you mad at me or something?”

“I—” Kageyama says, but his tongue doesn’t seem to agree with him, so he starts again, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” Hinata says because _ he doesn’t_, and he really thought they were getting along better these days. Kageyama even let him drink half of his milk yesterday. “You were all frowny and your eyebrows were all like this—” he points his own downward to mimic the way Kageyama’s had looked, “—and you were looking at me funny. Like you couldn’t figure something out. I don’t know, okay? Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

It takes Kageyama a while to answer, and Hinata waits for the response to come tumbling out of his lips. He fears it’ll be something along the lines of _ I don’t want to be friends anymore_, or _ I don’t want to talk to you_—but he knows that it’s got to be more than just that, and surely, Kageyama knows this too. Hinata Shouyou isn’t one to let things go so easily, and he will give Kageyama every reason to stay if he must.

“You didn’t...do anything,” Kageyama says, wincing slightly, and Hinata feels his lungs breathe again. “I—sorry. I was just thinking about…things.” He winces. “I didn’t realize that I looked weird—or that I was looking at you. Uh. Sorry.”

“So you’re okay?” asks Hinata. “I know I talk a lot sometimes, but I’ll listen if you want me to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kageyama is quick to dismiss. “But um—thank you. Maybe I’ll tell you. Someday.”

For once, Hinata does not push. “Okay,” he says, and even Kageyama looks surprised by how easily he’s dropped the topic. He throws the ball at Kageyama. “Toss to me?”

Kageyama smiles, shaking his head. A trick of the light, maybe, but Hinata swears that Kageyama’s cheeks are pink. With nothing but fondness, he says, “You better not miss.”

Hinata beams and he runs backward, and waits for the ball. Kageyama tosses it up into the air, and he meets him there, eyes open to the other side of the court. Planets colliding, they turn golden, never stopping. And their days keep beginning, unfolding a future they know that will include them both.

Because the thing about beginnings, Hinata has learned, is that the messier they are, the more they are worth every moment.

** _iv. at hinata’s house, nearly sunset_ **

“This is stupid.”

“No, _ you’re _ stupid,” Hinata retorts. He winces as Kageyama steps on his foot again. “Okay, so maybe this is a _ bit _ stupid.”

“It was your idea,” Kageyama huffs. They sidestep to the right in sync, then back and forth. “_It’ll be fun_, you said. _ Just a little practice_, you said. _ It won’t take too long_, you said.”

“Kageyama, it’s only been ten minutes.”

“And you’ve stepped on my foot thrice already!” Kageyama says. He sighs, but he keeps moving along. “Couldn’t you just ask Natsu to practice with you?”

“I’m not asking her!” Hinata says, frowning. “And besides, she doesn’t need to look presentable at the wedding ‘cause she’s still a kid. I’m the one who’s expected to dance.”

If only there was a training camp this following weekend, or a really important match, then maybe he’d be able to get out of his cousin’s wedding. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see his family or celebrate, but _ things like slow dancing _ have never been his strongest suit, and Kageyama definitely knows it by now. He’s light on his feet, sure, but what does it matter if he needs to count for someone else too?

“Ow,” Hinata says when Kageyama steps on his foot again. “You know what? Let’s take a break. Just for a bit.”

“Do you really need to dance when you’re there? You might just make a fool of yourself,” Kageyama says.

“I’m not going to make a fool of myself,” he insists, but Hinata knows that it’s futile. He might as well not come at all. “And it’ll be fine. That’s why we’re practicing, right? To get better?”

“If you say so,” Kageyama replies. He sits down on the sofa, hugging a pillow to his chest. “It’s in Tokyo, right?”

“Yeah.” Hinata takes a seat next to him. “If all else fails and I embarrass myself, at least I’ll get to see the city.”

Kageyama frowns. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three days,” he answers. Then Hinata tilts his head, grinning. “Why? Are you gonna miss me?”

He watches the way the color grows on Kageyama’s skin, blooming from his neck and to his cheeks, spreading and curving along the bridge of his nose. _ I can see right through you_, he thinks to himself.

“Three days isn’t long enough,” Kageyama grunts. He looks a little like a king, with the sunlight to circle like a crown on his head. “Wish you’d be gone longer.”

“So you’ll miss me more?”

“No, dumbass.”

“It’s okay, I know you will.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Oh, I know!” he says, snapping his fingers together. “What if we went together one day? To Tokyo? There’s some amusement parks we could visit or the Tokyo Tower, and Kenma’s told me of some really good places to eat, and the nightlife is said to be pretty fun,” Hinata says—and he’s _ rambling_, he knows he is, because that’s what he does when he’s nervous, but what does he have to be nervous about, anyway? It’s not like this is a serious proposal—except it almost sounds like one, if he tuned it to sound like a promise instead—and it’s _ Kageyama_. And with Kageyama, Hinata’s learned of invincibility and courage. There’s nothing to be afraid of when it’s about him.

“Okay,” Kageyama says, and he turns to look at Hinata properly, something unreadable on his face. “One day, we’ll go to Tokyo.”

Hinata grins. “It’s a deal.” He thinks of other promises his made to Kageyama these past three years. Some fulfilled, some forever to hold, some to come. _ All reasons to stay_, because he’d like to keep them with him all the time.

Kageyama nods. Then he shakes his head and stands back up. “Well, come on, then,” he says, and he holds out an outstretched hand for Hinata to take. “The earlier we finish practice dancing, the more volleyball we can play before nightfall.”

Hinata takes his hand. “Okay. Let’s try this again.”

Hands come together, one on the waist, another on the shoulder. Only centimeters in between them, Hinata counts softly. _ One, two, three. One, two, three_. He patterns it to the rhythm of his own heartbeat—can Kageyama hear it too? Have their hearts fallen in sync here, just like they have on the court?

In a moment of boldness, Hinata lets his head lean on Kageyama’s chest. He feels the other boy stiffen, but only for a second, and then comes the steady rise and fall of stolen breath. _ I want to slow dance with you_, he thinks, then remembers that there are moments such as these to be treasured, seconds to stretch into years for the sake of memory. So Hinata embeds this into his mind: how Kageyama hasn’t stepped on his feet yet, their infallible synchronization, the falling sun, and the way Hinata’s heart seems to beat differently around Kageyama Tobio.

There’s meaning to it, and he tells himself to remember that too. For safekeeping, to bring out this little bit of warmth on a rainy day.

** _v. at a train station_ **

It has been a long day.

It might as well be the longest day of his life, and Kageyama Tobio is tired. He’d just escaped from a family reunion lasting two weeks, and while he does love his family, the exchange of mundane pleasantries and greetings tend to get tiring after a while. _ Yes, he’s doing well in his studies _ (or rather, as best as he can). _ Yes, he’s still playing volleyball _ (heading for the Olympics, he wants to add). And his personal favorite—_no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend _(and won’t ever will). It has been a very long, exhausting day, and Kageyama’s just glad to be coming home.

Home, to a small apartment with potted plants on the window sill and sticky notes on a cork board on the wall. Where the sun streaks through the slits of the blinds, and where he keeps a nightlight by the side of the bed in case he ever needs an extra defense against the dark. It’s a comforting thought to be back home, even when the kitchen is never completely clean and the refrigerator is stacked with milk cartons and the cabinets are filled with instant ramen. Home, a little place in Tokyo he’d managed to call for himself.

An announcement signals that the train is about to stop soon, and Kageyama gets up from where he sits down. There’s not too many people around, but it’s still busy enough to bump shoulders with a couple of people on the way to the doors. _ Just a little more_, he reminds himself, _ and you’ll be home_. The train slows down to a stop, and in the moment before the doors slide open, Kageyama holds his breath.

They open. He lets go.

There’s a crowd of people when he exits, and he stops to look at his surroundings, eyes scanning all the faces around him. Friends huddled in groups, chattering as they walk alone. Businessmen on their phones, high school students laughing, tired smiles and long faces. Strangers on their way home, just like he is.

_ “Tobio!” _

And Kageyama stops, his eyes landing on a spot just a few feet ahead of him. He smiles.

Hinata Shouyou comes running towards him and Kageyama feels himself dropping his bag to the side. Hinata jumps and tackles him in a hug, tight and warm and familiar, and Kageyama holds on to him just as fiercely.

And just like that, Kageyama Tobio is home.

“I missed you,” Hinata says into the crook of Kageyama’s neck, and his hair tickles Kageyama’s cheek. He laughs, and Kageyama feels something tug on his heartstrings. “I know, I know, it wasn’t that long, but I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he murmurs, and he feels like he’s sixteen again, too full of love with no clue what to do with it. It’s been a long time since he’d gotten used to Hinata’s easy way of sharing what he feels, and in that time, he’d learned to do the same.

Hinata lets go of him—but not completely, his hand finds Kageyama’s and they lock together, as they have many times before this. He presses a soft kiss to Kageyama’s lips. It’s far from their first one, but it still feels like it, still makes Kageyama feel dizzy.

“So how was your trip?” Hinata asks, as Kageyama picks up his bag from the ground. He swings their hands between them as they walk.

“My mom says hello and that we should visit more,” Kageyama tells him. “And my aunt got a new dog. A shiba inu, and she seemed to like me pretty well for once. Oh, and one of my cousins is getting married next spring.”

Hinata nods. “Did they ask you about _ the thing _ again?”

Kageyama rolls his eyes. “Yes,” he says, just to humor him, and Hinata laughs softly. “Too bad the answer’s the same every time.”

“_Oh, Tobio-kun, don’t you think it’s time you got yourself a girlfriend? _” Hinata sing-songs, his voice high. He snickers, and Kageyama snorts. “Hm. You think you’ll ever get one, Tobio?”

“You think I’ve got time for a girlfriend when I’ve got a short, annoying spiker to take care of?” Kageyama deadpans, rolling his eyes.

Hinata squawks and bumps his side with his arm. “At least I don’t burn water!”

“That was one time!”

“Twice! _ Valentine’s Day, _remember that?”

“Eh? Don’t think I’ve forgotten the time you broke our stove!”

“I was trying to make soup while you were sick!” Hinata huffs. “And you got better, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but it definitely wasn’t because of the soup,” he mutters.

“What—_idiot_!”

“Dumbass!”

“Mean!”

“Stupid!”

“Annoying!”

“Short!”

“Bean pole!”

“Pork bun!”

“Rude—wait, what did you say?” Hinata says suddenly. Then he breaks out laughing, a healthy color rising in his cheeks as his eyes squeeze shut. “_Pork bun?_ Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Don’t think you’re any better,” Kageyama says, and he’s trying to sound annoyed, but Hinata’s laugh has always been contagious. He finds himself grinning stupidly anyway. “_Bean pole?”_

“It’s better than pork bun! That just sounds _ cute_,” Hinata says, grin ever-present, as surefire as the sunset. He hums, eyes sparkling, “You think I’m cute, Kageyama-kun?”

He scoffs. “I think you’re dumb.”

And Hinata laughs again, tugging Kageyama closer to his side. “Yeah, yeah, I think you’re pretty cute, too.”

But because Kageyama is no longer sixteen and stupidly in love (though, he believes that maybe he’s a little bit more in love now, if anything), he wills away the blush that threatens to rise on his face. It doesn’t completely work. “Dumbass.”

Hinata smiles. “Come on,” he says, and he pulls Kageyama along. “Let’s go home already.”

“Yeah,” he says, glancing at the sun setting over the horizon. Kageyama turns back to Hinata, and squeezes his hand. “Let’s go home.”

** _vi. in the living room, while the city sleeps_ **

Kageyama wakes up just as the movie credits begin rolling, playing background music as names and words fill the screen. He blinks, looking around the room. Hinata is snoring softly against him on the couch, his head resting on Kageyama’s shoulder and the rest of his body leaning on his side. Kageyama had fallen asleep first, and he remembers because Hinata was still gasping at all the cool explosions before he had drifted away. He looks back at the sleeping boy.

He tries stretching his arms as best as he can without waking Hinata, but it’s difficult and he’s certain that his left leg is asleep. He finds the TV remote by his side and switches the screen off. He’s already forgotten what the plot of the movie was—much less the name. Eyes adjusting to the dark, Kageyama looks back at Hinata. He’s sound asleep, and he’s always been able to sleep like the dead, only ever rising early for volleyball or jogging. Maybe such seemingly boundless energy is exhaustible, after all.

And Hinata looks peaceful like this, snoring with the occasional mumble that escapes his dreams. Something about _ kings_, to stand at the end of the world. Eyes closed, _ a sleeping beauty _ that Kageyama will never claim, and the rest of the world sleeps with him.

Kageyama sighs, resigned to his fate and what he has to do. As carefully as possible, he slides an arm under Hinata’s torso, then another under his legs. Standing and lifting Hinata up, he’s a little unsteady at first, wincing at the pricks of his awaking leg. This is nothing new, of course, so Kageyama walks to their bedroom, slowly just to make sure he doesn’t bump into anything.

He lowers Hinata on the bed, placing the covers on top of him. He cuddles up to one of the pillows immediately. Kageyama smiles to himself before turning on the nightlight by the end of the bed. It’s for his own benefit, mostly because he’s never been friends with the dark. Hinata had made fun of him when he found out, but Kageyama’s also come to learn that he’s been needing it less and less ever since they started sleeping next to each other. Who needs a nightlight when you’ve got the sun right next to you?

“Tobio?” Hinata says, and Kageyama jumps in surprise. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Can I ask you something?” Hinata asks, his voice croaky from sleep. He yawns.

“Sure,” he says, and it’s a little awkward as he hovers by Hinata’s side of the bed.

“Are you happy?”

Kageyama blinks. “What?”

Hinata just keeps looking at him. “Are you happy?” _ With me? _

He doesn’t know what to say. There’s a lot to think about from such a simple question. Happiness doesn’t come easy, this he has learned too many times, _ so keep it while you can. _ Even the greatest kings couldn’t call themselves happy, and yet here he is anyway—twenty and dumb and willing to challenge it. He’s young and stubborn enough to show for it, a boy still growing up, _ a raging storm in his own right, _ and hopelessly, stupidly _ in love. _

And Kageyama knows exactly who to blame it on.

The earth when it catches the sun, the last lightning bolt that strikes the ground. The only one foolish enough to stay in the storm. _ Hinata Shouyou_, the firestarter that makes Kageyama the happiest he’s ever been.

And sometimes, Kageyama doesn’t understand why.

Because if anything, boys like Hinata, boys of summer and defiant determination, are the kind who stay away from the slightest darkening of the sky. Because boys like Hinata are the type Kageyama’s always thought to avoid; careless and impulsive, rough around the edges, sky-bound with no hope of ever coming back down. Hinata is everything Kageyama isn’t, but _ should be_—he is the sun to fill the gaps that Kageyama leaves, the sunbeams that escape the thickening of clouds. Wind at high velocity, never one to slow down.

(Never one to call anything impossible.)

Because Hinata is simple and bright and he eats more pork buns than what’s good for him. He loves plants and misses his sister more than he’d care to admit. He isn’t too good at his studies, but tries his best all the same, anyway, because _ there’s no point in settling, Kageyama, don’t you know? _ Hinata is quick on the volleyball court, the fastest spiker anyone’s ever seen, a blur of orange, and the only one who can match Kageyama for every pace. He is a disaster in the making, but picks himself back up time and time again, because sunny days were never meant for staying inside.

And in the end, in between whatever weather may find them, Kageyama knows his answer.

_(On a scale of one to ten, are you happy?) _

“Yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss to Hinata’s forehead. “I am. Now go to sleep, dumbass.”

Hinata smiles, wistful and light, before he closes his eyes again. Kageyama settles in next to him, arms coming together to hold, and he lets sleep take him away.

_(Infinitely so.) _

** _vii. tokyo, the city lights on them_ **

See, the thing is, Kageyama likes having a routine.

His days are kept simple this way, easy to navigate, and it’s not hard to remember what he did last. Breakfast always follows waking up, then he meets Hinata on the path to school. Volleyball practice, and for the rest of the day he pretends to be paying attention in class, scribbling down notes the best as he can, before he goes back to the gym for even more practice. On most nights, he and Hinata walk home together, tired from playing but never of the company that they share. He likes routines, they keep things simple and easy, and he tries pretty hard to stick to them.

But that’s also where the issue lies—Hinata Shouyou is not one for routine, but always for spontaneity, and he has no qualms about taking Kageyama along with him.

And here’s the other thing: Kageyama’s finds himself having a harder time saying no to Hinata these days.

So when Hinata mentions sneaking out of training camp one night to get a proper tour of Tokyo, Kageyama doesn’t stop him. He does, however, attempt to argue, but it’s futile even before he begins. _ But you promised, Kageyama! _ Hinata tells him, puppy eyes and pout and all—and really, if Kageyama’s being honest, he never stood a chance. It’s then that Kageyama realizes that _ Hinata could probably take him anywhere in the world, _and he still wouldn’t say no. He’d just be glad that they’re still together, that out of all the people Hinata could choose, it’d be him.

It’s a little past ten when they leave the team’s shared room, the summer air cool on their skin. They walk around through the brightly lit streets and the colorful lights, gazing at all the eccentric shops and their merchandise, distracted by how the world looks a lot more different at night. Shoulders bumping, hands brushing, Kageyama enjoys himself and allows himself to be awestruck by the phenomena of Tokyo nightlife.

They find a store that sells glow-in-the-dark volleyballs, and Kageyama achingly restrains both himself and Hinata from buying it. It’s too expensive for either of them, and they’ve only got so much money in their pockets. _ (“But think about it, Kageyama! We wouldn’t have to stop playing just because it was getting dark outside!”) _Hinata begrudgingly agrees and sees reason, and allows himself to get pulled away. There are a hundred other things to see, though; the streets are littered with booths and stalls, food and keychains and bags alike, jewelry and hand-made crafts all together. It’s a little overwhelming, and when the walkways get a little too crowded for Kageyama’s taste, Hinata takes his hand and squeezes it three times, just so they won’t lose each other.

“So what do you think?” Hinata asks him a little later, and city lights are reflected in his eyes, stars in his irises. “This wasn’t a bad idea, right?”

And Kageyama knows he cannot disagree. “No,” he answers, and Hinata’s stupid grin is enough to let him smile just a bit too. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I was right!” Hinata says, whooping. Kageyama shushes him for being so loud, but it doesn’t deter him. “_Gwahh_, this is all so cool!”

Kageyama hums in agreement. “It’s really nice out here.”

“And really fun, too! I heard there’s supposed to be a dance show somewhere soon, I wonder if we can catch it…”

At that moment, Kageyama’s eye catches something on one of the stalls—a keychain, hanging from a rack with others. He walks over to it and takes it from where it’s hooked. The vendor comes up to him, and without another word, he buys the small piece of merchandise.

“Here,” Kageyama says, and he hands the keychain to Hinata, who looks at him in surprise. The tips of his ears are pink. “Shut up. It just reminded me of you.”

In Hinata’s hands is a keychain of a little crow with a crown on its head.

“Oh,” Hinata says. His cheeks are red, and he smiles widely. “It’s so cute! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, but he’s happy that Hinata liked it.

Hinata brings out his phone and attaches the keychain to the loop. He shows it to Kageyama. “There. So I’ll always remember tonight.” He grins.

Kageyama nods, and he knows that he shares the sentiment. He wonders if it’s possible to keep a memory tucked in your pocket, to keep with you all the time, and to remember for the rest of your days.

“Say, Kageyama,” Hinata says when they’ve started walking again, the colors dancing on his face. Street lights illuminate him, bright and earnest. But there’s something off about him too—nervous at the edges, eyes never looking at Kageyama for too long. He laughs, but it doesn’t sound quite right. “What do you think, if someone confessed to you here?”

Kageyama blinks at him. “What do you mean?”

Hinata bites his lip, and he stops moving. “You know, the timing and the setting’s pretty nice. It’s night and it’s beautiful, like a fireworks show that we can touch. And those kinds of things matter, don’t they? So what if someone confessed to you, right here and right now? What would you say?”

He shrugs, still a little confused. He’s never really thought about things like that—like ambiance or pacing, or whatever else people consider when talking about their feelings. He looks at Hinata. “It would have to depend on who’s confessing, wouldn’t it?”

Hinata’s cheeks turn red, and his fists clench slightly by his sides. He takes a deep breath. “Well, what if it was me, then? What would you say?”

Kageyama’s eyes widen at the implication. He stutters, “You’re—are you really—”

“Yes,” Hinata says, and he braves himself to look directly at Kageyama. For a moment, Kageyama sees the small boy from three years ago—green uniform and wet tears, a declaration to _ be better _ next time. “I like you a lot, Kageyama, and I know it’s really dumb, but sometimes I think about kissing your stupid face and it makes me really happy.”

Hinata takes another deep breath, looking sheepish and nervous. He still looks beautiful, Kageyama thinks, and even more so with the city lights on him. “So what do you say to that?”

“Yes,” Kageyama says. “I say yes.”

“You—you’re serious?” Hinata asks, voice small but hopeful. “No more hypotheticals. It’s just me, okay, not someone else confessing. And you—you say yes?”

“Yes,” he repeats. “Yes, yes, _ yes_. How many times do I have to say it until it gets through to you that maybe I like you a lot too?”

Hinata falters for a second, before his entire face lights up and he’s _ beaming_. “Well, you know, I wouldn’t really mind—maybe a couple more hundred times more just to be sure?”

“Dumbass,” Kageyama says, but there’s a grin on his face too, and _ this seriously can’t be happening_, because boys like Hinata couldn’t possibly like someone like him—but here Hinata is anyway, to defy that logic time and time again. He’s never been one for routine, after all.

Hinata stands on his toes and wraps his arms around Kageyama’s neck, bringing their faces impossibly close to each other. “Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” Kageyama says, and it feels like he’s said that word a million times in one night—but he’ll keep on saying it if he needs to, if it’ll mean Hinata will be here with him. His hands come around Hinata’s waist and he bends a bit lower. “Yes, please.”

Hinata is smiling even when he kisses Kageyama, lips meeting halfway. It’s not much more than the press of mouths against each other, but when Hinata pulls away, they’re both bright red and blushing hard. Kageyama’s lips tingle, and he feels like kissing Hinata is a thing he should’ve been doing a lot sooner.

Kageyama takes Hinata’s hand, a bit embarrassed but a lot more braver too. “There’s still a lot to see,” he tells him, “and I know we’ve got time, but I’d like to spend it all with you.”

Hinata squeezes his hand and smiles, soft and gentle. “Yeah, I’d like that, too.”

** _viii. somewhere the rest of the world can’t hear_ **

“I can’t promise you anything,” Kageyama says one day in December, bundled up in a coat and a scarf around his neck. The snow falls down on him gently, just as it should for kings, for boys of winter. He looks at Hinata, unsure but lips pursed in determination. “I can’t—I can’t say everything will always be okay between us, or that we’ll never fight because we’re both too stubborn for that. I can’t promise you I won’t hog all the blankets or that I’ll always make the best dinner. I can’t say that I’ll never forget our special days or our date nights, or that I’ll always understand what you’re thinking. I can’t tell you that it will always be easy, that the world will always be on our side, or that we’ll get everything right. I just—”

His eyes turn briefly to the sky, before he looks back at Hinata. “I just want you to know that I can’t promise you anything. But will you still be—are you okay with that? With—with _ us_, even if I can’t?”

**_ix_**. **_for only kageyama to hear_**

“I don’t need you to promise me anything,” Hinata says in reply. He takes Kageyama’s hands into his own, cold meeting warm, _ a collision of summer and winter_, and squeezes them both. “And I don’t mind if we fight because, well, we wouldn’t really be us if we didn’t bicker from time to time. Besides, do you really think I would’ve stayed this long if I thought this would be easy? And I don’t care if you hog the blankets because you’ll always be there to hold me anyway, and even if it’s just instant ramen or cold noodles, dinner’s always been better with you around. _ Everything’s better with you, _ and I know I’m not—I’m not the easiest to understand all the time, but you try to anyway, and that’s worth more than anyone else does. It’s okay if you forget things because that’s what I’m here for, yeah? And I don’t need the world to be on our side—as long as I’m on yours and you’re on mine, we’ll be just fine.”

Hinata smiles. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t need promises. I just need you.”

** _x. their apartment, after sunrise_ **

Kageyama has been in love with Hinata Shouyou for a while now.

And it isn’t that he doesn’t know this, or that he’s just come to this realization. He’s known it for years now, maybe, and if he really thinks about it, he can pinpoint the exact moment the revelation came to him (_a rainy day in October, when Hinata had laughed and somehow it was like he had made the rain cease, a child of the sun)_. But to count down the ways he fell in love, or to find the days that caught him falling, smitten with this small boy that promised invincibility, _ promised burning_, is something he could never do—there is too much, too many memories and stories, he could never put all of it into words.

Kageyama is in love with Hinata. He knows this, and so does Hinata. It is no secret to either of them, not to their close friends and family, though maybe just a bit hidden to the rest of the world. He’s been in love with Hinata since he was sixteen, and not a day has gone that he wasn’t.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, the sunbeams filtering through the blinds, a morning sun’s greeting. His eyes are still heavy, threatening to close again as he yawns, but Kageyama forces himself to sit up anyway, stretching out his arms. The space next to him is empty, but that’s to be expected on mornings like these. Once, Hinata had told him that sometimes he likes to get up early to watch the sunrise because it gives him hope. It tells him, _ here is another chance, go use your wings and fly. _And that’s what Hinata does, every day, for as long as Kageyama has known him.

So with another stretch, Kageyama gets out of the bed, straightens the sheets and folds the blanket, and opens the door. The rest of their apartment is cast in a hazy yellow, messy and cramped. There are things left over from last night’s movie marathon; pillows are scattered over the couch, an unfolded blanket stuffed in the corner, papers neglected on the coffee table, books in piles on the floor. A small pot with a cactus sits on the window sill, along with other flowers. A corkboard hangs on the wall, and several sticky notes hang upon it, multicolored and of different sizes. Reminders, dinner plans, deadlines—an attempt at not forgetting, of staying organized despite the clutter. It works out, somehow.

_(You make me feel GWAH!! I love you!!!, _ one of them reads in Hinata’s handwriting.

Then beneath it, in a scrawl that could only be Kageyama’s: _ I love you too.)_

Kageyama hears the sound of cooking, and his feet take him closer to the kitchen for a clearer view, the smell of whatever Hinata’s cooking getting stronger—pancakes, maybe? He shuffles closer, and leans against the wall.

Hinata’s back is to him, still in pajamas just like he is, an old shirt of Kageyama’s and shorts, humming quietly to himself as he works. He moves swiftly, easy and practice movements. The morning seems to move along with him, and Kageyama thinks to himself that if bending the daylight were to be possible, Hinata would be the first of them to master it. He looks on, watches Hinata, and it occurs to him that he wants to live like this forever.

He wants to wake up with Hinata on some mornings, and come along with him to watch the sunrise on others. He wants to walk into the kitchen and find Hinata already there, singing to himself, making breakfast for two. He wants to spend the rest of the day with him, sneaking in kisses in between practices; he wants to come home and have dinner, to watch trashy movies and eat more snacks than they should. He wants Hinata to tease him about having to sleep with a nightlight because he’s afraid of the dark, no matter how annoying it is, because he knows Hinata will let him snuggle closer anyway. And when he opens his eyes again in the morning, he knows Hinata will be there too, because they’ve both made a promise to stay.

Kageyama wants this, all of it, with Hinata. He wants to spend the rest of his life with this summer boy of his, for as long as the world will let him have it.

(Because these things, no matter how mundane they may seem aren’t just so—dinner isn’t just a dinner when Hinata’s there to talk about his day, movies aren’t just movies when Hinata rests his head on Kageyama’s shoulder and comments as he watches. Because these things, they’re all a little more special with Hinata.)

And there is no better time to take what he can get for now, so he walks forward to where Hinata is. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, and rests his chin on Hinata’s shoulder. Hinata doesn’t seem surprised by it one bit and carries on with his task, not when Kageyama’s done this often enough that it’s almost second nature, for all that casual intimacy can be.

(And so maybe Kageyama can be a little clingy when he’s sleepy, but that’s not the point here.)

“Good morning,” Hinata says, an amused smile on his lips. “I tried to wake you up to watch the sunrise, but you wouldn’t move at all.”

Kageyama has no memory of it, and just buries his face to the side of Hinata’s neck. The orange curls tickle his cheek. “Hm,” he hums, “It’s cold. You’re warm.”

Hinata laughs. “That’s the real reason you’ve been dating me then? To use as your personal heater?”

“Obviously.”

He fakes a gasp, one hand coming to rest on his forehead. “I’m offended, Kageyama-kun. And here I was starting to think you actually loved me.”

“Dumbass,” he says, and Hinata laughs again. Kageyama wouldn’t mind hearing that sound for the rest of his life.

He thinks back to his earlier thoughts, to how he’d like to spend the rest of his life with Hinata Shouyou. _ I choose you_. How he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his days _ just like this_, and wonders if people like him are allowed to achieve such happiness. Because past everything else and every hardship he’s faced, Kageyama isn’t a quitter. He works hard to get what he wants, and reckless determination is what he’s been known for.

(Because at sixteen it had been a matter of falling.

At twenty-five, Kageyama knows not to fear the drop.)

So here he goes.

“Hey, Shouyou,” Kageyama says quietly. “Will you marry me?”

Hinata stills. He puts down the pan and turns around to face Kageyama. “What?” he asks, eyes wide and voice shaky. “Tobio, did you just—”

Kageyama blushes. “I mean—if you don’t—never mind, just forget about it, I wasn’t really thinking, I just thought—I don’t even have a ring—I mean, we’ve talked about it before, so I was hoping, and I—”

“Yes,” Hinata says breathlessly.

Kageyama stops. “What?”

“Yes!” Hinata repeats, and he jumps to tackle Kageyama in a hug, arms around his neck and legs around Kageyama’s waist, pressing kisses all over his face. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Kageyama laughs, smiling wider than he’s ever done before. “Really? You really mean it? I’m—thank you—”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Hinata says, and he kisses Kageyama for real this time. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

“I love you, too,” Kageyama says, and his forehead knocks against Hinata’s. “I’m really, really happy.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me forever, huh?” Hinata teases, but his eyes are brighter than the sun and all of Tokyo’s city lights. _“The rest of our lives_. What do you think about that?”

“It sounds long,” Kageyama replies, and he wonders exactly how many words he can put into a lifelong love letter. “But it doesn’t seem so bad, if it’s with you.”

Hinata kisses him again, and Kageyama holds him close. He’ll take Hinata to dinner soon, buy a ring, get down on one knee, and propose properly, but for now this is enough. There’s no rush, not when they’ve got all the days ahead of them to stand together. They’ve got time, and Kageyama can’t wait for every second of it.

** _xi. hinata’s house, on a long weekend_ **

“How do you know if you’re in love?”

Natsu’s looking at her brother when she asks it, and Kageyama sits by her side. There’s a commercial playing in the background, cut through the episode of one of Natsu’s favorite shows. It was a romance, if he remembers right, between a witch boy and a princess. Maybe that’s why the question comes as it does, and Kageyama finds himself a little surprised. Hinata glances at him, eyes a little wide before turning away quickly, cheeks tinted pink.

Hinata coughs. “I—uh—what?”

“How do you know if you’re in love?” she repeats, and for a moment her eyes are on Kageyama, and he swallows thickly. Hinata Natsu is one of the very few children (if not the only one) that isn’t afraid of him. She’d taken a liking to him immediately the first time they met, and Kageyama might liken that part of her to her brother. It might just be a Hinata thing then, to be persistent in the pursuit of friendship. He’d been a little nervous at first—and if he’s being really honest here, _ afraid_—but after an incident involving messily made flower crowns, glittery stickers, and pink paper hearts, it’s become a lot easier to talk to her. But in this very moment, Kageyama finds himself at a loss for words.

“Well,” Hinata says, and Kageyama looks at him. He feels his heart racing just a little faster, in anticipation of what Hinata has to say. _ If the words will reach him_, what will he learn? Hinata isn’t looking at him, though; he keeps his eyes focused on his little sister. “I guess it helps if he buys you pork buns when you’re both tired, or if he’s always nagging at you, but you know it just means he really cares about you, even if it does get annoying sometimes.”

Kageyama snorts, but he does not say anything. He just keeps looking at Hinata.

But when Hinata does continue, there is something different in his voice. A subtle shift in tone. A little more serious, with a hint of fondness within it—wistful, even. “Maybe—maybe you know you’re in love if you feel really happy when he shares half of his milk even though it’s his favorite, just because you asked for it, or when he knows to give you his carrots because you like them and you’ll give him your tomatoes in return. Or if your heart does funny things when he’s around and all your words never come out right because you’re nervous over the simplest things. And when talking to him has you smiling like stupid for days, no matter what it’s about, _ but you can’t help it. _ And sometimes love doesn’t make sense at all, but the best things never really do, and all you really know is that you want to spend all your time with them and give them the best flowers in your garden.”

Natsu tilts her head. “Is that why Okaa-san’s been complaining about some of her flowers going missing?”

Hinata blushes, but he keeps his eyes steady on his sister. And Kageyama wants Hinata to look at him, so that he can see the way these words leave Hinata’s heart, the way the take form into something tangible and something he can carry with him.

“Yeah,” he answers, laughing softly. Kageyama thinks of the red camellias Hinata had given him the other day. “I think you’re in love if they make you feel invincible, like you can do anything, and you know that it’s okay if you do something dumb because they’ll be dumb along with you.” Here, he pauses, before breaking out into a smile, and he shakes his head. “Like eating the spiciest noodles you can find even if you both have a terrible spice tolerance.”

“Dumbass,” Kageyama mutters, but he’s smiling too.

Natsu looks unconvinced. “Are you sure that’s what being in love is like? It sounds really stupid.”

“It kind of is,” Hinata answers her, “but it also makes you really happy, you know? Just being around them makes you feel good. And despite all the bickering and all the fights, you still want to be with them. You still want to stay, because they make you happier than you’ve ever been before.”

Natsu looks between the both of them, a questioning look on her face, but she doesn’t say anything about it. She focuses back on her brother. “So if they make me happy, that means I’m in love?”

_ If they make you feel like the luckiest person in the whole goddamn world, _ Kageyama wants to say, _ then yes, you are in love_.

(And he is—by all means and all ways, _ Kageyama Tobio is in love_._)_

“I think so,” Hinata says tentatively, “but it’s also different for everyone. What I feel might be different from how you feel. And, for me, um—I know I’m in love because, well—”

Hinata finally looks at Kageyama, wearing the softest expression he’s ever seen, a grin to rival the stars. “He makes me laugh.”

** _xii. home_ **

“—and here’s the last one!” Hinata says, coming into the room with a box in his arms, and placing it onto the ground with the others. He claps his hands together and looks at the room before him. There are stacks of boxes everywhere, the walls are laid bare, and some of their furniture has yet to be moved in. So far, they’ve got a couch in the living room, an inflatable bed, and a dining table. It’s not a lot yet, but they aren’t quite finished either.

He turns to Kageyama, and tells him, “I think that’s everything.”

Kageyama nods. “We can start unpacking after lunch if you want.”

“We could,” Hinata agrees, and for a moment he considers the idea of doing even more work—but he’s still a little overwhelmed by everything, and no one told him that moving somewhere new would be so taxing. So instead, he finds an empty spot in the middle of the room and lies down. “Or you could just lie here with me for a bit.”

Kageyama raises an eyebrow. “And why would I do that? We haven’t even properly cleaned yet.”

“Just for a while,” Hinata says, and taps on the empty space next to him. “Then we can eat then unpack. Or maybe at the same time, what do you think?”

“Dumbass,” he says, rolling his eyes, but Kageyama moves to stay next to him anyway. “There’s still a lot to do.”

“I know,” Hinata says. He looks up at their ceiling, around their new apartment, and takes pleasure in the way it feels right. It’s their apartment, their couch, their walls, their table. All of it—_ours_, Hinata thinks to himself. Shared by two, to hold memories and moments waiting to come. “I’m just—this is really exciting! It’s a little overwhelming. It’s just you and me now, you know?”

“Yeah,” Kageyama agrees. He links their hands together in the space between their bodies, and scoots even closer so that their shoulders touch. “This is home now.”

“This is home now,” he repeats, and he closes his eyes. _ For today, and for all the rest of our days, let it be this way_. There are empty spaces to fill and photographs to frame, things to keep and others to throw away. He’s thinking of hanging up a little board on the wall, too, somewhere they can put a calendar and a couple of reminders. That would be helpful, wouldn’t it? He’ll ask Kageyama about it later.

Hinata takes in the world around him by sound alone: the soft chirping of the birds, the busy streets beyond their window, Kageyama’s easy breathing next to him. This is how things are going to be now—and Hinata knows it won’t ever be as simple as he’d like it to be, but he hopes everything will turn out well all the same. He knows a few things about starting from scratch and still aiming for the sky, after all.

“Hey, Tobio,” Hinata says quietly. “I’m really glad I get to do this with you. It’d be pretty scary to do it alone, so I’m happy you’re here with me.”

Kageyama hums. “Well, where else would I go?”

“I don’t know,” he says, voice soft. “But you could go anywhere you want. To another country, or to another continent. Even to the skies, if you wanted, I guarantee it. Any place would take you, but you’re here with me instead. And that—that means a lot to me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Kageyama tells him, and there’s something about the way he says it—an undercurrent of sincerity, of fondness—that makes Hinata open his eyes to face him. “So if it’s okay, I hope you don’t mind if I ask you to stay, either.”

Hinata grins at him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got no plans of leaving. This is our home now, after all.”

“So you’ll stay?”

“So I’ll stay.”

They remain like that for a few minutes longer, lying on the floor of a world that they’ve yet to call theirs, a sanctuary against whatever storm the future will throw at them. Hinata lets it all pass by him, just this once, _ content with settling_, because there is nothing better than this moment right now. There is nothing else he could want, nothing more he could wish for.

When Kageyama’s stomach rumbles the same time his does, Hinata laughs and Kageyama picks himself up, holding an outstretched hand for Hinata take. They make their way to their small kitchen, grab some utensils and plates, and dig into their food. Their first meal in their new home, with so much more to follow. They bicker over who has to wash the dishes first until they realize they can both do it at the same time—then Hinata pokes Kageyama’s cheek with a soapy finger and that begins a whole series of trying get soap on each other. But Hinata is laughing through all of it, and Kageyama is, too, even when they’re both sticky and sweaty, and somehow, Hinata knows that they’re off to a good start. Things are going to be okay.

And so maybe they don’t know what the future holds for them. Maybe they don’t know where their story will end or where they’ll end up. Maybe years down the line they will come to regret their decisions, or maybe they’ll be grateful for each one they’ve ever made. The uncertainty and unpredictability of fate, the way it curves and twists red strings until it sometimes becomes too messy to entangle. But they know where their hearts lie; they know where they belong, though it has never been quite like them to stay in one place too long.

They belong to wherever the other is, to the little wonders and seconds that make up their lives. They belong to their _ every days_, from every mundane moment to every grand scheme they come up with. Side by side, hand in hand, they trade stories for armor and memories for invincibility. Always starting over, never quitting. With rings on their fingers and with promises to keep, they keep going.

And when the sun rises, they keep on hoping.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! <3


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